


Green Tea and Artist's Chalk

by wattpads_songbird



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Artist Castiel, College Student Castiel, College Student Dean, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Librarian Castiel, M/M, Mechanic Dean, Spring, Student Castiel, Student Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-17
Updated: 2015-06-17
Packaged: 2018-04-04 19:40:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4150356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wattpads_songbird/pseuds/wattpads_songbird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If there's one thing that can be certain about spring, it's its unpredictability. One second it can be beautiful, and the next, it'll be storming so hard people might think they'll need an ark. Spring leads people on roads they never imagined themselves taking. Dean has been subject to this change in route. It led him to over sized sweaters, blue eyes, untamed black hair, green tea, and artist's chalk. </p><p>Dean couldn't have been more grateful for unpredictability.</p><p>⛅</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. ⛅ M O N D A Y

**Author's Note:**

> ❝ I   d o n ’ t   c a r e   i f   M o n d a y ’ s   b l a c k ❞

The heavens seemed to open up in a split second. One moment, Dean was walking back to his apartment, and the next, he was drenched to the bone from an unexpected April shower. Dean’s boots splashed in the quickly forming puddles as he raced to the first building in his line of vision. The door was just shutting behind him as a rumble of thunder sounded through the air.

Dean glared at the dark sky that could be seen through the glass door. He knew he should’ve driven, but it had been so nice outside. He shook his head and cursed spring’s indecisiveness. Turning around, Dean quickly realized that he had run into the campus’ library. 

It was eerily quiet. Dean had to wonder if there was another living soul around. Then, like a knife, a deep voice came piercing through the silence. “Can I help you?” Dean jumped more than he’d like to admit. He turned and saw a boy standing there with books in his arms, all crazy black hair and even crazier blue eyes. The boy’s thin frame was clad with a grey sweater that almost hid his fingertips, even though they were wrapped around numerous book spines. “My apologies,” the boy amended. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Nah, it’s good.” Dean narrowed his eyes at the boy since familiarity radiated off him. It then struck Dean. “You’re in my English class, aren’t you?” 

The boy shifted the books in his arms. “Yes, I am.”

Dean then noticed that the boy’s arms seemed to be growing tired of holding the books. “Can I help with those?” he offered.

The boy smirked ever so slightly before spinning on his heel, retreating into the bookshelves. Dean heard him say, “I can handle this load. Not to mention, there’d be water spots on the books.”

It was then Dean became fully aware of just how drenched he was. His jacket was sticking uncomfortably to him, and his hair was sending cold raindrops periodically down his spine. He shifted self consciously, but it only further worsened as his boots squished underneath his feet.

The boy soon returned book free. Dean approached the boy, trying to ignore the squish of his boots, and held out a hand. “Dean Winchester.”

The boy hesitated, but soon put his hand in Dean’s. His fingers were thin and cool clasped around Dean’s palm. “Castiel Novak.” 

“Well, Castiel,” Dean started, “are you okay with me waiting out the rain here?”

Castiel nodded. “That won’t be a problem. I was just closing up, but I don’t want to run back to my apartment in this weather.” 

“Cool.” The two stood there in a slightly awkward silence for a moment. “Would you by any chance have a towel or something like that?” Dean asked. 

“Oh! Yes, of course. How rude of me.” Castiel quickly scurried into the back room and returned rather quickly with a towel in hand. “It’s from the janitor’s tray, but I can assure you it’s clean.”

Dean chuckled, “Thanks.” As he made his way to where there were tables set up, he toweled off his hair, causing it took stick up in all different directions. Setting down the towel for a second, Dean peeled off his bookbag and jacket, which he laid out over a chair to air dry. Dean then plopped down in the nearest chair, and slipped his feet out of his boots, no longer being able to stand that squishy feeling.

Glancing over, Dean saw that Castiel was standing a few steps away, obviously unsure if his company was welcome or not. Dean smiled. “You wanna study for English since the midterm’s tomorrow?” 

“Sure,” Castiel said, uncertainty clear in his voice. He disappeared once more. Dean ran the now damp towel down his arms as stray water droplets had lingered where his short sleeve shirt ended. 

Looking up, Dean jumped once more as Castiel was now occupying the seat across from him. Dean put a hand on his heart. “Damn. You’re one quiet son of a bitch.”

“I apologize...again.” 

Dean resisted the urge to roll his eyes before pulling his textbook out of his damp bookbag. Thank god the bookbag had protected the contents from becoming soaked. Sinking in his chair, Dean rested the book on the edge of the table so that it sat on his stomach. 

Dean was by no definition an English person. That had always been Sammy’s forte, but Dean had to take another class, and there was no way in hell he was taking whatever Latin course the counselor had suggested. Dean soon became rather distracted by the person sitting across from him. 

Castiel had laid his book out flat on the table. One arm rested along the bottom of the book while the other lazily propped up his head, tips of fingers now completely covered by the sweater’s sleeves. Dean began wondering how he hadn't taken more notice in Castiel. He was rather nice to look at. There was a sudden itch of curiosity plaguing Dean’s brain to know more about the blue eyed boy from English. 

“So,” Dean began, “are you doing anything over spring break?”

Castiel looked up from his book, and Dean fully appreciated how blue his eyes were. “Just staying at home with Meg.”

“Oh.” A wave of disappointment washed over Dean for no justifiable reason. “A girl on your shoulder is always a nice way to spend spring break,” he said with a chuckle.

Castiel tilted his head in confusion, reminding Dean of a puppy. “I’m afraid you’re mistaken. Meg is my cat. Meg as in Nutmeg.”

“ _Oh_ ,” Dean said once more, feeling stupid.

“What about you? Any...girl on your shoulder?”

“Nope, I’m heading back to Lawrence. Spend some time with my family.”

“That’s nice,” Castiel said, his words free of any trace of sarcasm.

The two studied in silence after that. Well, Castiel studied. Dean tried not to stare. He tried not to notice each little detail of the boy across from him. Dean’s eyes quickly flickered back to his book as Castiel shifted. The blue eyed boy pinched the bridge of his nose like he was getting a headache. When he removed his hand, a black smudge was left in its place. 

Dean glanced back up and chuckled. As Castiel made eye contact with Dean, Dean tapped the side of his nose where the smudge resided on Castiel's. He could've sworn Castiel reddened slightly, but he wasn’t quite sure since Castiel covered up his face as he swiped away the substance. 

“Was that chalk?” Dean asked.

“Erm, yes, I thought I got it all off my hands, but it has a nasty habit of reappearing.”

“So you’re an art major then?” Dean questioned, curiosity still reeling. 

Castiel dropped his eyes and shook his head. “Pediatrics.”

“Wow, I was way off.”

“Well, I do draw...sometimes,” Castiel said, his voice becoming quieter as the sentence progressed. 

“Would I have seen any of it at that campus art show?” Dean questioned, trying to wrack his brain to remember if he had seen any of the art initialed C.N.

“No,” Castiel replied. He quickly changed the subject. “What’s your major?”

“Engineering.”

“Do you like it?” 

“I love it,” Dean said with a smile.

Castiel shyly smiled back before casting his glance out the nearby window. “It seems as the rain has stopped for the moment.”

Dean’s smile faltered for a moment, but he recovered with, “We better run. We don’t know when the weather will change its mind again. Gotta love spring.” 

The two swept their belongings into their respective bookbags, and after Castiel had turned off all the lights, the two walked out of the library. Dean paused as Castiel locked up. When Castiel’s blue eyes met Dean’s green, Dean lost his train of thought. 

“Uh, so, um, I guess I’ll see you in English?” Dean stuttered out.

“Yes, I’ll see you there,” Castiel said, playing with his bookbag straps. 

Dean went right. Castiel went left.


	2. ⛅ T U E S D A Y

❝ T u e s d a y , ❞

Tuesday morning came, and Dean was walking into his English class, scanning the faces for a familiar one. After a moment, Dean decided to just sit down. As fate would have it, the first time Dean looked up from his seat, he saw that crazy head of black hair.

Castiel’s untamed hair could be seen over the top of a sketchbook. His eyebrows were furrowed in an almost endearing way. Well, they would’ve been if Dean used words like endearing. As if sensing Dean’s gaze, Castiel looked up. The blue eyed boy did a double take, and Dean smiled at him. Castiel shyly smiled back before burying his nose back into whatever he was working on. 

Dean struggled his way through the test, cursing himself for not studying more. He blamed Castiel. After an extremely long hour and a half, it was done. Dean slipped his way through the crowd, making his way towards Castiel’s desk. 

Once he was there, Dean said, “Hey, Cas—can I call you that?” Castiel seemed slightly flustered as he nodded. “Cool, so I never thanked you for letting me wait out the rain yesterday.” 

“A thanks is unnecessary,” Cas said quietly.

“No, it was cool of you. Do you have time to grab a drink at the square? I’ll pay.”

Cas fiddled with the straps of his bookbag, an action Dean was recognizing as a nervous habit. “I have some time before my next class.” 

Dean smiled. “Awesome.”

The square was a place in the middle of campus where numerous stands were set up. Dean’s favorite being the coffee stand named Heaven’s Beans. At first, Dean had thought the name was a bit cocky, but after buying a coffee, he was hooked. 

Dean ordered a black coffee while Cas ordered a green tea. When the two had their drinks, they took up residence on a bench that faced a small garden. 

“So, what were you working on today in class?” Dean asked. 

“Nothing, really,” Cas stammered out. “Just fooling around.” 

Unable to help himself, Dean asked. “Am I ever going to see anything you’ve drawn?”

There it was again. That light red that touched Cas’ cheeks. “I don’t—I mean, I’ve never really…” 

“Hey,” Dean said, cutting through Castiel’s stuttering. “No pressure to show me. I’ve always been too curious for my own good.”

Cas shifted. He then retrieved his sketchbook from his bookbag along with a case. Dean watched with wrapped attention as Cas quickly flipped to a blank page. The numerous flashes of black smudges did nothing to suppress Dean’s curiosity. Cas then took out a piece of black chalk from the case. He cast his gaze across the garden, and then dropped his eyes to the page.

Dean watched the paper as Cas’ nimble fingers moved across the page in long strokes. His full attention was wrapped on the paper, so easily entranced with the fluid movement of the chalk on the page. Dean marveled as he saw the picture coming together so effortlessly, each smudge perfectly placed.

The green eyed boy looked up to Castiel’s face, and, damn, was Dean done for. Castiel’s features were knotted in concentration, but it wasn’t like when he was studying. This was a whole new level of concentration. It wasn’t as if the boy was even here. He was somewhere far away in his own head. Dean’s fingers almost itched to smooth the crease that had formed between his eyebrows. 

Then, in a flash, the look was gone, replaced with a shy smile and doe eyes. Dean cast his gaze down to the paper, and his jaw dropped. He quickly looked over to where Cas had first looked to, and had no trouble picking out which flower the boy had drawn. Cas had even included the honeybee that was circling said flower. 

“Damn,” Dean muttered in awe. He looked back up to Castiel, who was without a doubt blushing. Castiel cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. He quickly wrote CAS in loopy letters at the bottom corner before carefully taking out the page and handing it to Dean. “I get to keep this?” Dean asked. 

“If-if you’d like to.” Cas stuttered. 

“Hell yeah I’d like to.” Dean took the paper and smiled at Castiel. 

Cas couldn’t bare to look at Dean, terrified he’d blush so hard it’d stain his skin. “Um, I really should go… I’ve got a difficult class coming up tomorrow.” 

Dean didn’t get a word in before Cas had run off. Dean frowned before collecting his things and heading off to the auto body shop to start his shift.


	3. ⛅ W E D N E S D A Y

❝ W e d n e s d a y   h e a r t   a t t a c k ❞

Dean grudgingly made his way through his Wednesday midterms. While these were the classes he was good at, Dean couldn’t help but think that maybe once he was done he’d just happen to bump into Cas.

Once Dean that thought crossed his mind, he cursed himself. When the hell did he start thinking up scenes straight from a chick flick? 

The last class of the day was soon done, and Dean was strolling back to his apartment, all the while looking for that same head of black hair. As Dean walked up the steps to his apartment, his feet felt like lead. When he stepped inside, a sense of disappointment washed over him. 

Dean cursed himself again before heading off to study, and he wasn’t wishing that Cas was here to help him study. Nope. Not at all. Not one little bit.


	4. ⛅ T H U R S D A Y

❝ T h u r s d a y   n e v e r   l o o k i n g   b a c k ❞

The only thing that had gotten Dean through Thursday's tests was the knowledge that tomorrow was Friday. Walking into his room, Dean noticed that housekeeping had taken very low priority that week. So, Dean started cleaning, but not before putting a cassette tape—yes, cassette tape, even though Sammy constantly made fun of him for it—in the player.

Dean sang along to Metallica as it blasted over the vacuum cleaner, putting a little skip into his steps. He did the dishes, straightened up, and sang the whole time. Dean might’ve also discovered that a duster could double as a microphone. 

After a tape and a half, Dean was descending the stairs with his laundry on his hip and bookbag over his shoulder. It was a short drive to the neighborhood laundromat. Dean walked in, still humming a Metallica song. 

The air was thick with the smell of soap as Dean made his way to an open washer. He tossed his laundry in, then started slotting quarters into the machine. Dean turned around, and his heart seemingly leaped into his throat. 

At the far table, sat Castiel surrounded by textbooks. Dean hit the green start button before walking over to the table. The thought that this could possibly be a chick flick moment was far in the back of Dean’s mind. 

“Heya, Cas,” Dean greeted, leaning a hip against the table. 

Cas’ eyes snapped up from his book, and a shy smile—that maybe made Dean’s heart speed up—pulled at the corner of his lips. “Hello, Dean.” 

“Mind if I join you?”

“Not at all.” 

Dean pulled up a stool next to Cas and sat down. Out of the corner of his eye, Dean saw a green tea, with Heaven’s Beans’ logo. “Do you ever get anything else from there?” Dean asked.

Castiel followed Dean’s gaze before saying, “I’d never actually been there before. I guess I’m rather addicted now.” 

Chuckling, Dean then asked, “So...what’re you studying?”

“I’m trying to memorize all the bones in the hand. It’s been giving me trouble all semester.”

“Can I help?” Dean asked, eyeing a set of flashcards. 

Castiel hesitated for a split second before picking up his flashcards and handing them to Dean. Dean flipped to the first card and asked, “What ligament joins the pisiform to the base of the fifth metacarpal bone, which joins the little finger?”

Castiel pinched the bridge of his nose, this time not leaving a black smudge, and answered, “The pisometacarpal ligament?”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “Was that an answer or a question?”

“An answer?”

Dean barked out a laugh. “Yes, you’re right...I think.” Dean showed Cas the back of the card. Castiel nodded with a small smile. Dean shook his head. “I don’t know how you’re doing this.”

Castiel shrugged. “You’d be surprised how family pressure can be used as motivation.” 

Narrowing his gaze on Castiel, Dean thought he saw an almost sad look cross the boy’s features. Dean didn’t like that look. He bumped Cas’ calf with the toe of his shoe. “Nah, I just think you’re crazy smart.” 

Castiel played with the ends of his sweater sleeves, embarrassed at the compliment. The two continued to study. Cas laughing softly as Dean butchered many of the vocabulary terms, and politely correcting him with amusement filled eyes, sometimes more than once on a single word. Dean didn’t want to admit the fact he adored that airy laugh that escaped the other boy’s lips. 

When both the boy’s laundry was done, folded, and pack away, Dean decided that he didn't want to say goodbye. It was only eight. How could the night end so young? Cas was just packing away the last of his things when Dean finally got the courage to say, “Would you like to head back to my place? To-to study, that is.” Castiel instantaneously became flustered, stuttering out something incoherent. Dean noticed his distress. “Hey, no pressure. It’s just...easier to study with someone else than alone.” 

“No...I’d-I’d like to come over,” Cas finally said, feeling the nerves twist his stomach into knots. “Um, I’ll just drop my stuff off, and then…”

Dean picked up a stray pen. He hesitated before taking Cas’ hand and writing his address on the boy’s palm. “And then I’ll see you here,” Dean said. 

Cas looked at his palm before looking up at Dean and nodding. 

Dean was utterly grateful that he had cleaned before heading to the laundromat. He was only _slightly_ freaking out that every detail of his apartment looked alright. Should he play music? What kind of music does Cas like? Should he pop some popcorn? Does he like popcorn? Doesn’t everyone like popcorn? Dean realized he was now pacing. Running a hand through his hair, Dean cursed himself for the umpteenth time that week. He then froze in his place as a light rapping was on his door. 

Dean took a deep breath as he put a hand on the doorknob. _Get it together_ , he told himself before opening the door. 

“Hey, Cas,” Dean stepped aside, letting Castiel walk inside. “You can kick off your shoes and make yourself at home. Can I get you anything?” 

“No, I’m okay,” Castiel said quietly, slipping out of his shoes. He glanced around the apartment. “You have a nice place.”

“Thanks,” Dean said with a grin. 

The two spread out their study materials and stretched out on Dean’s living room floor. Castiel went through flashcards with Dean about the parts of a standard engine, and the two even strayed from studying, talking about more personal things. Dean learned that Cas had a cassette tape player as well, and he seemingly listened to a bit of every genre. Cas also did like popcorn, but had never seen _Star Wars_. Dean promised to amend that sometime. Throughout the night, Dean continued to learn little things about Cas, and these little things did nothing but increase his interest in the boy. 

At one point, the two had become rather close, and Dean discovered that Cas smelt like honey, green tea, and old paper. Dean had to bite his cheek not to laugh because it couldn’t have been more perfect. Dean also noticed that Cas’ lips were rather inviting, especially when saying car related words. He spent the whole night suppressing the urge to close the space between them. 

The night came to a close, and Dean found himself leaning against his doorframe as he bid his goodbye to Cas. 

Dean nervously scratched at the back of his neck before finally saying, “So, it’s basically a crime not to have seen _Star Wars_.” 

“Are you going to turn me in?” Cas asked, a small smile on his features.

“Well, no,” Dean said, “but I’d take your number instead so we can arrange a marathon.” 

Cas hesitated before retrieving the pen he’d placed behind his ear. He then took Dean’s hand and wrote his number down. Dean swallowed hard as Cas’ fingers wrapped around his palm. 

When Cas was done, he placed the pen back behind his ear. “Well, thank you for having me over. Goodnight, Dean.” 

“Night, Cas,” Dean replied, feeling a tad bit flustered, but over the moon as well.


	5. ⛅ F R I D A Y

❝ I t ' s   F r i d a y   I ' m   i n   l o v e ❞

As Dean got out of his last class, he almost fist pumped the air. He was going home, and while Dean wasn’t done for the year, he was looking forward to spring break. Dean had practically raced home to get together the things he needed, and he was ready to leave in record time.

There was something he needed to do before he left, though. Sitting in his car, Dean took out his phone and pulled up his newest contact. 

_Hey, I’m about to leave to go back to Lawrence. I didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye._

Dean very impatiently tapped his foot in waiting for the response. He jumped as his phone buzzed.

_I’m at the library._

It didn’t take Dean very long to get there. He jumped up the steps, happy that this time he wasn’t soaked to the bone. Walking into the library, it was busier than before. There were a few librarians and students milling about.

“Dean.” 

He turned to his right to see Cas looking at books. He smiled and made his way over there. “Are you really gonna be here all break?” Dean asked. 

Cas smiled. “Probably, but I won’t be working the whole time.” 

“You have a weird way of spending vacation. Why aren’t you going home?”

Pulling a book off the shelf that caught his interest, Cas tightly closed his eyes. “I’m just...I’m better suited staying here, that’s all.” 

Dean frowned. He couldn’t imagine not going home. Home meant apple pies, and hanging out with Sammy, and tuning up cars with his dad. Dean had a sinking feeling Cas’ homelife was very different than his own. He dropped the subject immediately. “What about drawing? Will you have some kickass stuff done when I get back?”

Cas perked up. “I’ll draw as well. Whether it be...kickass or not is left to be determined.” Dean followed behind Castiel as he walked over to a table where his stuff was laying out. 

“Come on. You’re too modest.”

Cas started packing away his things. He had his sketchbook in hand, ready to put it in his bag, when a rumble of thunder sounded, but this wasn’t any normal thunder. Rumble was a major understatement, it was more like twenty lions roaring. 

Dean practically jumped out of his own skin, and Castiel dropped his sketchbook in a flutter a paper snippets. 

“What the hell?” Dean breathed, trying to slow his heart which had begun to race. He then dropped to his knees to help Castiel gather the bits of paper that had fluttered to the ground. He smiled as he saw little drawings etched onto napkins or torn paper. All signed _Castiel Novak_. Dean then froze as he saw...himself? 

Dean tilted his head to the side as he saw it was him sitting on that park bench, coffee in hand. He turned the paper over to see that it was him in class. It wasn’t once though. Scattered across the paper were little etches of Dean in class. Each time in a different position, or wearing something different. 

Dean glanced up to see that Castiel was blushing deeply from the tips of his ears to his cheeks. Dean handed back the papers, slightly shocked at what he had just seen. Cas quickly swept all the papers into his bag. “I-I hope you good break,” he stuttered out before quickly walking away. 

Rising to his feet, Dean quickly called, “Cas, wait a minute.” 

He didn’t wait. 

Dean sighed, but his heart was racing. Cas had taken notice in Dean before Dean had ever paid Cas a second glance. Walking out of the library, Dean quickly made his way to his car, slightly terrified the heavens would once again open on him. 

As Dean drove down the road, heading to the highway, he couldn’t help but think of Cas. Dean thought that those drawings meant that maybe Cas liked Dean too. His heart fluttered at this new information. What would happen over break though? Castiel with his crazy blue eyes and crazy black hair, he could be picked up any second. 

Dean drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and gnawed on his bottom lip.

Castiel sat on the same park bench sulking. Yes, he was sulking, and he had the right to, thank you very much. He had just blown a potential friendship with Dean, all because of the stupid thunder. Castiel glared at the sky, almost daring it to rain on him. He huffed and ran a hand through his hair. Yes, he had been crushing on Dean Winchester since the moment he had strutted into English that very first day, but Castiel would’ve been fine just being friends, knowing Dean Winchester wasn’t very likely to swing his way. He’d keep his secret safely under wraps, and spend time with someone he enjoyed spending time with. 

It was a perfect plan, emphasis on was. Castiel had been so close to gaining Dean as a friend, something Castiel didn’t have a lot of, being too awkward and shy. 

Castiel huffed. He was going to grow old and have twenty cats because every person he met sooner or later fled in the other direction. He should just accept this fact, but right now, he was going to sulk. 

Castiel vaguely heard footsteps coming his way. He didn’t make a move to see who is was, though. Suddenly, there was a person sitting next to him. 

Dean smiled at Castiel’s shocked features, heart all a flutter, before handing him a green tea.

_Fin_

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this song [x](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wa2nLEhUcZ0)  
> [Tumblr](http://magnificat-cas.tumblr.com/)


End file.
